I wasn’t going to tell you, but

by Lisa MacKenzie

I put the avocados,

which were in the fridge,

back out on the counter to ripen.

You wanted to make guacamole 

for dinner tomorrow

with these stones.

I don’t mind if you’re mad,

but they won’t taste good.

Like you,

no softness,

no yielding.

Lisa MacKenzie is enjoying the free time of retirement in which to write poetry.  Her work has appeared in boats against the current, Visual Verse and Literary North. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two entertaining cats.

Note: The title of this poem is inspired by This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams